The Burner
by Dshuck2119
Summary: A young woman named "Narcissa," a lifelong member of WITSEC, is relocated to Mystic Falls. Mute, antisocial, and a nihilist, she dedicates her life to protect the immortal beings of Mystic Falls from the Albanian Mob. Unfortunately, she discovers she may need to protect Mystic Falls from something worse - herself.
1. Chapter 1

THE BURNER

An In Plain Sight/The Vampire Diaries Fanfiction

**I own no part of The Vampire Diaries or In Plain Sight.**

_This story begins at the start of the Vampire Diaries Season Two, but really skips a lot of what happens. Klaus and others will be involved, but this story will follow "Narcissa", a mute nihilist having spent her formative years in WITSEC. What happens when everything she believes she is is proven to be a lie, and she is forced to open up her cold, lifeless heart?_

Chapter One - Emancipated

They tell me my name is Narcissa. I don't have a regular last name – and by that, I mean one given to me by my parents. My last names are given to me every six years by Witness Protection. I often wonder if my first name was given to me by WITSEC.

Not many people can claim to have spent their lives under the thumb of Federal Witness Protection. Most people come in after seeing a crime, or criminals trying to rat out fish that are bigger than them. I, on the other hand, have another story…one much different.

Mary Shannon, the only woman that I have ever loved strongly enough to call my mother, tells me that the story goes something like this: My father, an American occultist and a chemist, was studying something in a secret underground lab (she couldn't tell me where it was; classified information) that the Albanian mob wanted…and they wanted it bad enough to kill him over it. When they didn't find what he had been studying in his lab, they went after pregnant, soon-to-be-in-labor wife, a fellow Albanian. She did what she could, and her physician tried to fight them off…but it didn't end well. Thinking that I, the baby, was dead, they left me. I, still barely alive, plunged into this world an orphan, tended to by Albanian cops.

Knowing that I would not survive in Albania, the police secreted me, a silver-haired baby…off to the United States of America. The police then said I was dead, and falsified my papers – which means I should be an illegal alien. I tried to do the right thing in getting my citizenship, but that almost got me located for the second time, (read: killed) by the Albanian mob, so I had to drop that.

Ever since being slipped into the United States, I have been bounced around like a ping-pong ball from family to family, most of them not knowing what to do with me because I am mute and part of WITSEC. That's right – in my entire life, I have never spoken a single word. Not even so much as a sound has ever left my mouth. It makes people think I am dumb, but I know sign language and I let them think what they want – I never lasted longer than a few months with any of the families, most of them so worried about themselves that they dropped me as soon as the words "Albanian mob" left a WITSEC agent's mouth.

Finally, at age sixteen and fed up with the constant chaos, I asked Mary to help me get emancipated minor status. She didn't like it – said I needed a family and I needed to finish school – but I told her, in writing, that I had made up my mind. That's one of the advantages of mutism – you can choose to either sign in ASL or write, and either one you choose seems to carry lots of weight. I stick to signing when I deal with everyday life, but I write down the vast majority of what I tell Mary. Mary is my mother – one of only two people in the world I care about.

"_I will finish school_," I had said in the follow-up letter I wrote her. "_School is not the issue. This whole family thing is what is pissing me off. There is nobody out there who wants to be my family – nobody, that is, except you, Stan, and Marcus. I am tired of switching schools and homes…being bounced around in the hopes that maybe some Albanian might stand trial someday for murdering people I don't even know. I know I have told you that I am a nihilist – but I need some stability now. I want a place to call my own…if only for a moment."_

I remember the look on Mary's face when she read the letter – a lot of aggravation, but a sense of understanding. She often came to me to vent her personal troubles with her mom and sister, and I didn't mind. The blonde, tough-as-nails Marshall often called me "her favorite witness," remembered my birthday, and always told me I would make an excellent shrink – even though I prefer electrical work, carpentry, and working on old cars.

"Narcissa," she had told me in her Albuquerque office – she would always have me come to New Mexico for the week of my birthday, August 19th – "you've really thought this out, didn't you? You're ready to give up childhood, aren't you?"

"_Mary," _I signed. "_I tried it…for you. But…I am tired of running around and putting people in danger, existential nihilist or not. I am sick of running from the Mob…running, hiding, lying…the whole bit. I want a place to live, not just survive until the next move…even if I have to make it on my own. If this is what childhood is…I hate it."_

Mary nodded. "I…I get it. If I didn't have my mom and Brandy, I'd do it too. But…that's not going to change the fact you are still in the program. You have about twenty states you can't live in. You've been an excellent member of the program…although I still don't like the fact that your sixteen and you own more pistols than shoes, and enough knives to make a serial killer jealous."

I smiled and flapped my hands – my signal that I was laughing. In one of the five suitcases that had followed me in my sixteen years (one so large I had Marcus carry it), I had a cache of weapons. The Feds didn't like it much, but it had saved my life on two occasions (one mob-related, the other on my thirteenth birthday with Mary in the car), so it stayed.

Mary laughed with me. "Okay, I'll start your paperwork, put out a good word for you and see if I can't get you a work permit. It'll be your sixteenth birthday present. I know it's not a car, but I couldn't find you your 1973 Oldsmobile."

I flapped my hands again.

…

Two weeks later, I was in Mary's car, a new flip phone in hand, as Mystic Falls, Virginia came into view. "Welcome home, Cissy," she said, tousling my silver curls. She had told me that I looked like an ancient queen from a bygone time, with sharp silver eyes, sharp nose, creamy white skin, and a strong jawline. My skin, however, was usually stained with oil or covered in dust, and eternities forbid I wear a dress. "I'm proud of you."

"_I told you school wasn't an issue – they're all the same, just different faces," _I signed back. "_Beside, Marcus suggested this place for the tech school, so I really just need to take another year…and I'll be living my dreams."_

"Automotive program?"

_"No. I can't stand these modern cars – pretty soon, you'll need an IT guy to fix them. I…I need older things. Things that are old…I require something that needs my own two hands. I…I am going to see if I like carpentry or electricity more."_

Mary smiled. "I think…electrician will give you a better chance at a job. Both are good…but you'll need the money."

"_And the second occupation, in case this all goes to hell again." _

Mary nodded as we turned down a dirt road…to the most wonderful little house trailer I had ever seen. As a young girl…let's just say I am not very girly. I am drawn to house trailers over palaces, old vehicles to carriages, and woodcarving to makeup. I think…that's what Mary likes about me. We, even though neither one of us admits to it, understand each other. We trust each other…even though Mary Shannon trusts almost no one.

"I remember the day I first met you," Mary said calmly. "It was…just after I first started in Witness Protection – you were a small child, three years old, in a day care. All the other kids were busy playing with their toys…and you were sitting there with your speech cards on the floor, all alone. You still had that pretty long hair…and I sat down on the floor with you. I…told you who I was…and then, you asked me a question. Do you remember what it was?"

"_No."_

_ "_Are you…coming to take me home?" Mary finished. "Back then, I told you I wasn't. But…I think its time for me to say that my answer is yes. This…so long as you don't screw up or have any more medical problems…is your home from now on. Life…from now on, is truly going to be what you make it. It doesn't get rid of the Mob…but…"

"_They can come for me if they want_," I replied. "_They know me…I know them. I have always been pretty sure I will die like the parents I never had…but, if they come for me…I will make sure they remember my name on the way out."_

Mary nodded. "Come on, let's get you moved in…I see a great big garage…perfect for your workshop _and your car!_"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Five Suitcases

After Mary left me alone inside my new house trailer, I began investigating the place. It wasn't much – a beige living room with equally beige furniture, a nondescript white kitchen, fully equipped, and a small bathroom, also fully equipped. I knew I wanted to replace the shower with a full tub, and get a new TV, but those would have to wait – I could only live off the Federal Witness stipend because Social Security Disability Insurance would get me in trouble (too many chances I could be identified, or my information slipping into the wrong hands).

The bedroom was the most beautiful room in the house – I could have sworn Mary had come in and fixed the place up herself. The bed was queen-sized, with bright red sheets to match the walls and a large quilt, soft pillows at the head. There was a note on the quilt, which I was quick to investigate –

"_Dear Narcissa,_

_ Happy Birthday, with hopes of many more to come. Stan and I weren't able to get you the down payment on the car you wanted, but we did manage to get some things – they're in the garage. Stan's being promoted to Deputy Head of WITSEC, and I'm going to be the head of the Albuquerque Division. I'm not proud of your choice to be an emancipated minor, but…maybe you were right. All you've ever had are people who've passed you off. Maybe…you making it on your own is going to give you the stability you've been wanting – no, needing – all this time. _

_ My advice: this is your life. Make it the best life you possibly can, even when you don't seem to have anyone around to help you._

_All the best for your 16__th__ birthday, _

_Marcus_

_P.S. WITSEC, for your protection, has set you up with a contact, Katherine Petrova. Petrova is to act as your assistant, helping you with groceries, protecting you from the Mob, and making sure you keep appointments. Her number is located in your phone. CALL HER."_

I smiled – it was time to go open my suitcases.

The first and smallest of the five suitcases I owned, which I mentioned earlier, contained all the tools I needed for communicating with the world – my CAPTEL phone, a laptop, and a mouse. I had a printer in my second suitcase, along with all the cords, USB ports, and batteries I could ever want or need. Did I like technology? No – but as long as I wanted to be in constant communication and do my homework, technology was the way to go.

My third suitcase – the second-largest of the bunch – was the one I hated most: my medicine cabinet. In addition to being mute, I also have a battery of other problems, which go as follows:

Chronic Heartburn/Acid Reflux

Infertility (not that I care)

Increased core temperature (105.7 degrees Fahrenheit, which may be reason for hormone problems)

Severe lack of female hormones (my breasts formed, but nothing else).

Near-Absence of vocal cords, along with bizarre non-cancerous lumps inside my throat

Strange growths on bones in my back

Anaphylaxis food allergy to ALL fruits and vegetables, fresh or cooked (basically, a severe case of pollen allergy disorder)

That last one – the allergy to fruits and vegetables – is by far the one that makes me feel the worst. Parents across the country have always wanted me to eat my veggies, and I did too – if only to make myself feel a little less awkward growing up. Unfortunately…I paid for it in hospital bills.

Inside the suitcase is nothing but pills and shots. EpiPens for allergic reactions. Every single antacid you can think of (I have to change them every week because they stop working.) Hormone pills to regulate my body temperature and functions. Vitamins and minerals to replenish what I can't get from fruits and vegetables.

Yeah…It sucks.

I then turned my attention to setting up my CAPTEL, quickly located the number in my phone, and called the number, which went straight to voicemail. "_Hello, Katherine?" _I typed. "_This is your charge, Narcissa. Please, contact me as soon as possible." _I said, the knot tightening in my stomach. No protector I had ever worked with – not one – had ever left me hanging. If Katherine was leaving me out to dry on the first day…that was a sign I was on my own, and needed to add some new firepower to my impressive arsenal.

I then turned my attention to my weapons, checking them one by one. Most of them were simple .22 calibers, nothing that could kill large numbers of people, but enough to ward off any idiots. My knives, however – _those _were impressive. My favorite was one I "earned" when I was six years old, when a yellow-eyed Albanian mobster tried to kill me in Buffalo.

I remember the scene well – it was the dead of night, and I was in a hotel with a new WITSEC agent. I had tried to wake her up to go to the bathroom (the one in the room wasn't working for some reason), but she was out cold. Knowing I needed my pills, I went down alone…no one there was going to bother a little six-year-old, right? As long as I acted normal and did what the WITSEC people said – and hid my birthday present, a large butcher knife – under my pajama shirt, I would be fine.

The trip to the bathroom was fine – it was what happened next that started the story. I walked out…just in time to see the yellow-eyed mobster. He was in pain, it looked like – but I could see by his white suit and large gun that he was a mobster. I had seen him earlier in the day…he had come up to me, much too politely, but his eyes were blue then.

"Hello, little princess," he had said, smiling. "Do you want some candy?"

"_You want to lose an eyeball?" _

That caught the handsome man off guard. No doubt, he was used to getting his way with ladies of all ages – but I caught the foreign accent real quick, as my hearing is a little sharper than most people's. "_Listen, there is one rule in the world." _I had signed. "_That rule is, trust no one. The sooner you learn that, the better you will be. Now, get lost."_

The man looked like he wanted to abduct me right then and there, but I reached for the knife handle under my shirt – I carried knives everywhere back then. Thinking I was reaching for a gun, and the eyes of my agent trained on him, he backed off and disappeared real quick, not wanting a scene. My instincts immediately told me he'd be back, and my agent, taking the hint, spirited me away to the room, not letting me out for the rest of the day.

Now, however, I knew my mobster would not offer me candy – not with the eyes of a malaria-stricken man. Before he could realize I was there, I had my knife out and leapt on him. He screamed in pain, even though I hadn't hurt him…and my knife was at his throat just in time to see his teeth get really, _really _sharp.

There was no time for games or morals. No time to fight. The whole conflict would be won by whoever made the first move – and I intended to win.

Clenching onto the hilt, I plunged the knife in deep, slicing his neck as he gripped for me. "U.S. Marshall!" my agent yelled down the hall – but it was too late. The mobster was already dead, his head completely severed and blood pooling on the chintzy carpet.

I had killed somebody – and for some reason, I felt nothing. Of course, I went through investigation hell for two months…but I felt neither pride nor remorse. I just felt…nothing. He was a monster…a dumb monster who thought he could live his life terrorizing everybody. I, on the other hand, felt I was simply ridding the world of unnecessary waste – completing a necessary function that required no celebration. The only thing I took from him…was a long, smooth knife, dripping with what a note in his pocket called "vervain."

As far as I was concerned that night, I had done nothing of importance, regardless of what the Feds told me. No one would know or care who either of us were, largely because neither of us had any meaning to the world. In this moment, the seed was planted that makes me a nihilist. In my eyes, no one in this world is special, and we enter and leave the world alone. Men enter the world, and they leave the world, but none of them is truly important – the world did not need them before, and it wouldn't need them after. Life, in truth, is a zero-sum game; nothing ever really changes, despite the illusion of such changes occurring,

After putting all my pills away, I checked my CAPTEL again – nothing. Thankfully, my new cell phone also had TTY capabilities, so I left Mary a message on her phone about the absentee protector, and went about my business.

Whatever happened from now on…I was on my own in Mystic Falls…with no car. Marcus and Stan left me with an excellent wood-cutter's shop – but no car.

It was time for me to take matters into my own hands.

…

Armed with two knives in my pockets and a gun, I set off alone into the town. I wasn't the best when it came to exercise – my increased core temperature sometimes makes me overheat quickly if I exercise too much.

This is where, for me, the perfect form of exercise comes in: walking. If I walk, keeping a steady pace and taking several breaks, I can usually do a five-mile walk in about two hours. It would mean I would have to hurry to preserve meat, or live off non-perishable food until Petrova showed up. However…Petrova had told me she could not be trusted…without saying a word. If I wanted anything, I would have to get it alone.

The forests around me proved to be idyllic scenery…until the sound of a car cut through the air as I finished my first quarter-mile. Still unsure of myself, I ducked into the tree line, not sure who I was dealing with. Sure no one could see me, I waited patiently as the car, a 2005 Pontiac, ground to a halt, and a woman got out of the car.

"Narcissa!" she called. Still not sure who the woman was, I cocked my gun, flashing it out so the woman could see it. The woman, however, didn't seem frightened.

"Narcissa, it's me, Katherine Petrova." Katherine said, flashing her hands. "I know I messed you up on the call…I know you're scared, but you can come out. I swear I won't hurt you…it's all right."

I lowered my gun, but I still didn't trust her. I began moving out of the tree line and up to the car, still ready to shoot if needed. Finally, I opened the door and went inside, unsure if Katherine was scared of me or completely unimpressed. To be honest, I didn't care.

"Do you…oh, yeah…that's right," Katherine said, working her fingers a minute as she slid into the driver's seat. Then, she began signing. "_You're the mute one, right? The girl who killed werewolves on two separate occasions, once with nothing but a knife? For a human, you have some serious guts!"_

"_Please, don't patronize stupidity," _I replied. "_If they're dumb enough to try and pull things on me…,"_

"_They're dumb enough to die, Albanian mobsters or not," _Katherine replied. "_You've got a reputation that proceeds you, Narcissa – if you're not careful, you might get yourself killed."_

"_No worries…I've already prepared for that eventuality," _I replied. _"But…I do have one question."_

_"_Shoot." She replied, this time speaking aloud.

"_Those yellow-eyed men…they were actually _werewolves?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – To Maintain, or Not To Maintain?

Katherine, unable to sign and drive at the same time (which I completely understood) then proceeded to give me an education in the supernatural all the way to the grocery store – an underworld of witches, vampires, doppelgangers, and werewolves. Katherine then proceeded to tell me that she fell into two of those categories…and I was to stay out of the conflicts of the town as much as possible.

"If anything, you've just brought a crate full of dynamite to a boiling cauldron," Katherine said. "These people…to them, the Albanian mob is a batch of choirboys, no matter how much of a threat they bring to you or Mystic Falls."

"_That does not diminish the threat they pose."_

_ "_Of course it doesn't, Narcissa. But…the best thing you can do is try to keep your conflict with the Mob as far from Mystic Falls as you possibly can. I will assist you as much as I possibly can, but you're going to be responsible for yourself. Now…you said you have anaphlaxsis to fruits and vegetables in all forms?"

"_Yes."_

"Can you consume dairy products?"

"_Yes, but I have to do it in moderation. I can also eat bread and pasta – I try to eat that a lot, try to eat a lot of seafood. Candy…I like sugar candy, but chocolate messes me up."_

Katherine sighed. "You've never had it easy, have you?"

I lowered my hands – my signal for a sigh. "_I just…I wish I knew why I was so sick. Doctors…they've tried everything to help me get healthier, tried to make me feel better, but…it never worked. They tell me I'll be in the morgue by fifty…unless I have a massive fever. If my temperature goes above 115, I'll be toast in three hours."_

The car stopped. "Good to know," Katherine replied. "I have asked WITSEC for a copy of your medical records. I…thought you may be able to assist me with some minor matters, but it appears that you may be a liability to me."

I paused. "_What are you talking about?"_

Katherine nodded…and for a moment, I felt a tingle in the air, like something trying to mess with my mind. I shook my head, and it was gone…and just as Katherine was about to say something, I saw her mouth turn into a small O.

"I…I have never had a human repel my compulsion before," she replied. "I…wanted you to forget what I just said…but you just brushed it off."

"_Try again. Maybe it was just a fluke."_

"You'd let me try to compel you again?"

"_Go ahead."_

Katherine nodded, and the tingling returned again, this time stronger. She…was clawing at the edges of my mind, but I was able to push her out again. "Are you…do you have vampire parents_?"_

_ "No idea. There is very little information that is declassified concerning my parents – I don't even know their names. My father was apparently working on extremely dangerous experiments in Albania when he and my mother got killed. These experiments were so bad that United States officials don't even have access to the lab. When I turn eighteen, in accordance with my father's will, I am to be given full access to the laboratory and everything in it. That's why the Mob wants me – they want to keep me until I come of age, make me give them the experiments-"_

_ "_And then they kill you when they get what they want," Katherine finished. "Typical Mob behavior."

_"Not…necessarily," _I replied. "_I…The Feds tell me that my father was working on stuff with the occult as well…created dangerous weaponry that can only be used by his hand, or the hand of his chosen heir. Before his death, the Feds say he "hexed" my mother, making her…and by proxy, myself…chosen heirs. This mean, in short, that if he has twenty heirs, but only chooses two of them to wield the things he created, the other heirs are not going to be able to wield them."_

_ "_So he was a warlock?"

"_More like an occultist…he was fanatical about his craft, but it appears he never fully subscribed to witchcraft. He, according to the Feds, believed that by fusing magic with science, incredible things could happen."_

_ "_And that's why you need to stay away from the underworld of Mystic Falls…including Klaus Michaelson and his brother, Elijah," Katherine insisted. "They don't know anything about this stuff now, but make no mistake…once they finish with their current agenda, they may come looking for you…and not for the right reasons. That's why I asked the Feds to protect you…I knew about your father. We used to work together…until he went nuts back in the 1980's, plunged into dark magic. Your father's name…was Charles Coffery back when I knew him.

Tears stung my eyes. "Of course, that doesn't mean he didn't change his name when he went crazy. When we met, both his parents had died…he'd been messing around with heroin, weed, other hard drugs…he was a mess. I got him into the company of some Chicago warlocks, they got him clean…and he became extremely powerful in his craft. Then, he returned to UCLA to finish his Ph.D. Sometime after that…he snapped and disappeared. When I found his trail again…it was all dead bodies. Until now." Then, Katherine got out of the car, opening the door to talk to me face-to-face.

"Narcissa Coffery…you, regardless of whether you are human or not, _need _to stay alive. I need to know what he was doing before he died…why it was so important, and what it was…even if it takes us two years to uncover. Now, come on…let's go."

Tears rolled down my cheeks as we went to the store. As a member of WITSEC, I am not supposed to have any link to my past. However…the name of Charles Coffery, even if it hadn't been his real name when I was conceived, was a link to something more than my past.

It meant…that I didn't just fall out of nowhere. I was connected to something…even though I didn't know what it was yet. A group of warlocks. A college degree. Someone…whom had gotten lost along the way.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a father.

Now…I needed to find his trail.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four – Little Girl From Nowhere

Katherine and I got our groceries and headed back to the house trailer…and it became clear to me early on that Katherine Petrova was far more accustomed to the "finer things in life" than I was. "Seriously?" she asked as we made the last trip up the steps into my trailer. "They give you _this _to live in?"

"_I've had worse."_

"Well, we'd better hurry…I have another appointment shortly."

I shrugged, taking the meat to my massive chest freezer. WITSEC never really liked spending too much money…except when it came to "medically fragile" individuals. It's tough enough when you are fully able-bodied and hiding…multiple medical problems make it a nightmare. Knowing that agencies like Social Security and Health and Human Services can't help individuals running and hiding in WITSEC, they have to take more care of these individuals…thus, the chest freezer that seems to take up half the wall in my "anteroom." But I don't mind.

"Remember what I told you, now – stay away from the Mikaelsons, and stay out of my business," Katherine snapped when I met her in the kitchen again. "You do that, and I will ensure your life will be nothing but biscuits and gravy from here on out."

I flapped my hands – I loved biscuits and gravy, so that meant Katherine must have read my file pretty extensively. She shook my hand, and then left. I waited until I knew her car was gone. Then, I went to my cell phone – Mary had left me a missed call.

_"Hey, Mary," _I typed. "_How are you?"_

"Not great. Bad headache. You?"

"_Katherine finally showed up, we took care of business." _I wanted to ask her about Charles Coffery, wanted someone else to confirm he was my father, but I knew Mary would shut me down.

"_Good. If she keeps pulling her shit, you let me know. She's being paid by the Federal Government to keep you safe…she messes you up, we shut her down, and she's going to be spending time in a room without a view."_

Knowing what I knew about Katherine, I figured none of Mary's words would carry any weight. However, Mary quickly caught me off guard with what she said next.

"_So…Katherine took the post because she said she was friends with someone close to you…felt she owed him some kind of old debt. Did she happen to say who it was?"_

My palms began to sweat. I didn't want to blow myself out of WITSEC, but I knew who I was dealing with: the only mom I had ever truly had. "_The man she knew is named Charles Coffery. She…claims he is my father. He…I can't back any of this up…but-"_

"_What?" _Mary nearly yelled.

_"I…Katherine said he went crazy, used to be a hard drug addict before she hooked him up with some of her friends." _ I replied.

_"Coffrey…he was a UCLA science professor back in the early 80's," _Marcus typed into the CAPTEL – he loved to interject his knowledge in his calls. "_He was born on November 21__st__, 1950, all-American boy, went off to serve in Vietnam right out of school. Parents died while he served near My Lai, the whole thing screwed him up. Came out of the war, had PTSD, became a homeless long-haired vet."_

_ "Until he met Katherine."_

_ "That's the funny part…there's no record of 'Katherine Petrova' anywhere in his personal records, but he joined this fringe group named 'The White Stags' in 1975," _Marcus replied_. "In the course of a few months with them, he got cleaned up. Never touched hard drugs again, got his life back on track, got a college degree, served as a professor at UCLA from 1984 to 1988."_

_ "What happened in 1988?"_

_ "Well…he wasn't acting right then," _Mann replied_. "Busted up with a girlfriend, started digesting Communist and occult literate, learned both Albanian and Russian. I'm not sure…it's all too heavily-"_

_ "Which agency has been redacting the whole lives of both my parents? FBI? CIA? DNI?" _I typed, starting to see real red. "_Is it not bad enough that I have had to spend my whole life running from the ghosts of my parents – I don't even get to know what I'm running from, or when my real birth year is?"_

_ "You were born in 1994," _Marcus replied. "_That was recently declassified."_

_ "Please, Narcissa, don't get upset…this stuff gets classified for a reason. You're not even supposed to have connections to your past anyway," _Mary replied._ "Let Charles go."_

I got quiet…not wanting to show the tears of hurt. I simply typed "_OK." _Finishing the call, I held my head against the wall…and actually started crying. Now, crying is not that easy for me to do…my first reaction to any situation that pisses me off is to stab it. Or kick it. Or shoot it. Or burn it…just depends on my mood and what I have to work with right then.

But…this was the one situation I couldn't stab, shoot, kick, or burn. To the Feds, I was supposed to play a helpless "girl from nowhere," a girl with no past, present, or future. A girl that was just supposed to play Snow White and pray to God Prince Charming showed up…until, of course, I had to run away again, let go of everything, and just start over like none of it ever happened.

And then, just then, my pelvic region knotted up, sending me straight to the floor. I tried to get to my feet, but it proved just too painful. I hadn't needed to go to the bathroom before, and diarrhea had never been a problem…but this…this was hell. I wanted to moan, make some kind of cry for help…but no dice.

Then…something hard came out of me. After a few more minutes, I was able to stand…and I _knew _that couldn't have been an ordinary bowel movement. Moving slowly toward the bathroom, I stripped off the soiled bottoms, wishing to change.

And…that's when I found an opal-colored, translucent looking rock in my underwear, covered in blood. You might think the whole thing was a joke…but it was the most embarrassing feeling I had ever felt in my life.

"_Thank God nobody's here." _I thought. Disgusted, I pulled the rock out, threw my panties in the trash, and my jeans in the wash. I then texted Mary, asking her to send Katherine for incontinence products.

It wasn't even three o' clock…and it had been one heck of a day.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five – Embarrassed

Unfortunately, the bad juju wasn't done just yet.

After changing into clean clothes and taking a hot shower, I turned my attention to the stone that had been lodged in my body for heaven-only-knew-how-long. I knew I'd been pretty weird growing up as a kid…I liked eating dirt and ants just for the fun of it…but how in the hell did a hockey-puck sized rock end up in my body in the first place? Did I eat it as a kid? Was it a kidney stone? Did I need to go to the hospital?

I washed the stone clean of contaminants and looked it over. I had heard weird stories of massive hairballs in people's stomachs, bullets and rebar getting lodged in people's heads…but just _how did that happen? _I had had no less than six X-rays…none of them had reported any stones in my body. I turned it over and over…

And then…everything got hazy. I didn't pass out…but everything around me was replaced by a white, hazy fog…and then, it melted into a bright, beautiful field with a well on it. A man…a tall, golden-haired man with electric green eyes and tanned skin stood before me, holding a stone identical to my own. He wore a dark three-piece suit drenched in blood. I wondered…who could he be?

"_Hecate…can you hear me?" _he asked.

_"My…my name is Narcissa,"_ I said, shocking myself with the ability to speak. My voice…it wasn't what I imagined it to be, not at all. I thought that if I would ever had a voice, it would be sharp. Nasty. Scratchy…much like a laryngectomee with one of those electronic voice boxes. However…this voice was soft, almost heavenly. It carried gentleness…warmth…strength, things I never expected out of my own non-existent voice. _"No one…ever called me-"_

"_You are Hecate, my daughter," _Charles Coffery replied._ "And you are beautiful beyond compare. My life's work…my greatest creation. Everything I have ever dreamed of…the summation of everything I have ever wanted…sheathed in flesh, blood, and bone. All the horror of my life…My Lai…the deaths of my parents…the drugs…the hurt…it is all paid for in you. You are my perfection."_

I laughed at that. "_You call me…perfection? I have no voice, more health problems than most sixteen-year-olds…the doctors said I'd be lucky if I lived past age thirty-five without a feeding tube!"_

Now my father laughed. "_Hecate…I did not allow myself to endure my current situation to let you suffer this agony and embarrassment. If you will merely trust me…and those who are waiting to be your friends…you will soon be what I have envisioned you to be. Now…let me proceed…"_

Then, he reached down into the well, and after a few minutes, he pulled up a third stone. Holding the stones in his hands, he smiled.

"_The stones I hold…they are moonstones. Powerful keys in ancient rites and rituals. Klaus Mikaelson…an ancient vampire born here in Mystic Falls…seeks the stone I pulled up from this well, which is located on the Lockwood property, not far from you. Tonight, when the sun goes down…you are to remove the moonstone in the well, replace it with the stone that has come from you…and hide it in the walls of your home. There will be trouble, no doubt…but you must do this. When you have hidden the stone, I will instruct you once again."_

_I paused. "Did you put the stone in my body?"_

_He smiled, then he kissed my forehead. "In time, Hecate…you will know in time."_

Then…the man disappeared…and I returned to my trailer. Knowing that creating a hiding place that no supernatural being could easily spot would be difficult, I went to the garage, grabbing my hacksaw, chainsaw, mask, a couple of two-by-fours, and some wooden slats. Then, I retrieved a small wall portrait of Mary hanging on my bedroom wall – she would have to do until I could freshen up the walls with a new coat of paint.

It was time to get to work.

…

I worked all afternoon until about ten o' clock, wanting to be sure that no one would be outside when I went about my business on the Lockwood property. Donning a long-sleeved plain black hoodie, black pants, black boots, and matching gloves, I went to my "armory", grabbing my vervain-laced knife and two small guns. Satisfied, I set out in the dark, leaving a flashlight behind.

The mile walk to the Lockwood property was surprisingly quiet – all I could hear as I passed through the dark night was the crunching of leaves and the hooting of owls. The woods that night seemed as beautiful as a church sanctuary, the stars making me think of angels as I walked.

Finally, the Lockwood property came into view, the forlorn well standing like a guardian before me. Knowing the stone was in the bottom of the well, I climbed down the ladder and into the water, the replacement moonstone sitting carefully in my pocket as the water surrounded me, swallowing me whole.

"_I really hope this isn't Katherine's business." _I thought as I descended, the moonstone just a few feet down. Stepping to the bottom, I saw the moonstone covered in crud. Grasping at the treasure, I pulled the fake moonstone from my pocket with my free hand, letting it plummet to the bottom. Knowing I was running out of air, I surged from the water, my arms prickling and burning for some unknown reason. It wasn't enough to make my skin really burn or cause damage…but it did feel like all of my exposed skin had been bitten by mosquitos.

I stuffed the moonstone in my pocket and hurried out of the well. It was my first theft…and I prayed it would be a success. I looked up at the sky, smiling for a moment at the waxing gibbous moon, and then I took off, running from the Lockwood property as fast as my legs would go.

And _that's _when I bumped into trouble. No sooner had I gotten back into the safety of the woods…when I saw my first enemy in Mystic Falls. He was tall, slightly under six feet, with a slim build and dark hair. His eyes were blue, but I also saw yellow hues…and that only meant one thing.

Werewolf.

"Hey, pretty baby, where'd ya come from?" he asked, reaching for my arm. I pulled back, producing my knife. "Aww, come on now…I see blonde-haired babes and brunette babes every day…maybe a redhead or two. But…I've never seen a _silver-haired _hottie before!"

Not interested in flirting, I pushed the knife up to his chest. It was about now that he realized something was wrong with me. "What's the matter, honey? Cat got your pretty little tongue? Or is it something else?"

I shooed him off with my hands – the only thing he would be able to see in the dark. "What? You want me to-"

"Put a sock in it, Mason." Someone drunkenly replied. Before I knew what was happening next, a dark shadow pounced on Mason, and the two tussled. Grateful for the window of opportunity, I sped off, running harder than I ever had, inwardly begging for a shower. When I finally got to the house, I quickly locked the door tight, lowering the blinds on my windows – even though it was very close to midnight. I pulled Mary's picture down, revealing the new hidey-hole I had spent the day making. The thing was pure wood, with nothing but wooden slats and glue holding the thing together. I slid the moonstone inside, closing the door tight and putting Mary's picture back in place.

Then, a bright flash filled my trailer…and I was rewarded with the return of my father. "_Excellent, Hecate!" _he said, beaming. "_As a reward for this…let me…beef up security."_

As he finished speaking, a golden, snakelike light surrounded my trailer. "_Now…no one can get inside or out without your permission. Without it…let's just say it won't be pleasant for them."_

I nodded, just happy to be in the company of my own father. "_Now…you must continue on by doing nothing until after the next full moon. After that, over the course of three nights…you must consume the moonstone in three parts."_

Oh great…here we go again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six – Suddenly Unloved

I woke up the next morning nervous – very, very nervous. Despite the protections my father put in place just for me, something about this whole thing was…well, it was unsettling to say the least. What did this moonstone mean? Why did I have to eat it in three parts? And…just what was the point in the whole thing anyway?

Just as the questions danced through my head, my CAPTEL rang in the kitchen, so I ran to check the caller ID. "_Hello, Katherine." _I typed.

"Narcissa, what is the deal? You…you put some kind of force field up on the house, and I can't even get onto the sidewalk!"

I laid the phone down quickly. "_Katherine Petrova is allowed in this house," _I signed. Going back to the CAPTEL, I typed furiously, hoping not to make Katherine any madder.

"_Can you get in now?"_

There was no reply. Instead, Katherine zipped into the house, a bag of feminine products in hand. "Put the phone down; I'm here," she said bluntly. "So…your puberty has absolutely bad timing. I was in an appointment with Klaus when you sent your message."

I paused. The name…where had I heard it before? It sounded…horrifying…but at the same time, it was…welcoming. Like a hug from an old friend, or the bark of a dog that had missed its master.

I had seen Klaus. Saw his face…heard his voice somewhere…but I couldn't remember seeing or hearing of him anywhere. Katherine quickly picked up on it.

"Klaus…isn't the kind of man you meet in passing, much less regard as an old friend, Narcissa," Katherine warned, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "He's the kind of man…no, monster…you hear about in fairy tales. He's the kind of person you stay away from."

"_Like me?"_

"Well…you actually manage to give people fair warning before you put a blade in them. Klaus…he's nowhere near as kind as you. You have feelings…a kind heart, but you hide it so people can't hurt you with it. Klaus…he'll kill a hundred men before he'll show anyone he has a heart."

I was nervous then. "_Katherine…how do you know anything about my heart?"_

She smiled then. "Well, Narcissa…let's just say I witnessed your first kill as a six-year-old."

"_You knew?"_

"Yes," Katherine replied, going to fix a pot of coffee for us. "See…I was at the table across from yours the morning that mobster went after you the first time. I…was monitoring you, wanted to see what you would do. You're a supernatural being, Narcissa…just like me. The problem with you is…nobody knows what kind of supernatural being you are."

The thought of that made my stomach turn. "_And you know that…how?"_

"It's a…long, convoluted story…one I don't have time or clearance to tell," she explained. "Let's just say that…if Klaus actually knew you were here…he might need some adult diapers when he's around-"

"GRRRAHHHH!" A man outside yelled. Katherine and I turned…to see the man that had rescued me the night before down on the ground, nasty gashes up and down his arm. The force field had worked…and it was an incredible success.

"Damon Salvatore…of course." Katherine smiled. "Narcissa…stay put. I will deal with him."

"_No!" _I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. The move seemed to startle the old vampire.

"You…two have met?"

"_No…not necessarily," _I replied. "_I…I just want to talk to him a minute. I owe him a quick favor." _

Katherine stared at me like I had somehow lost a part of my brain in the time since we had met last, but I ignored it and went outside. Damon, a tall, dark-haired man with bright-green eyes, looked at me with a mixture of fascination and disdain.

"I don't know…whether I should call you hottie…or ask what the hell you're hiding in your cheap little trailer." he grunted, staring up at my chest.

"_You don't care about that…you're just looking for some tail." _I replied. Damon, for his part, didn't seem to catch on to the sign language.

"What?"

I shook my head – I didn't feel like running back in the house to grab a pen and paper to talk to this man. The biggest problem with ASL is the fact that there aren't many people who use the language – some parents with deaf or mute children can't even talk to their own kids. Suddenly, my lack of speech seemed to register.

"Ohhh…okay, that makes sense. You aren't talking because you _can't _talk." Damon said, smiling, he then laid his hand on my cheek. "Can you read lips?"

I nodded. However, Katherine had finally appeared, looking rather disgusted at the intrusion. "Damon…please. Narcissa doesn't need you, Elena, or your little Goody-Two Shoes gang in her business."

For a minute, I stood calmly in front of Katherine…and for some reason, something in me…kind of broke. "_Katherine, please do not make this your opportunity to alienate me to everyone here in Mystic Falls! I have a hard enough time staying in one state for three weeks, and whatever little agenda you have – or what little I've seen of it - is making things worse."_

Katherine, for her part, was angry. "_Narcissa, you know the cost of getting close to people! Do you want them to die at the hands of the Albanian Mob!? I have to protect you – what would Mary think of me if you died under my care?"_

It was at this point that Damon was attempting to translate the language, and he stepped between us. "Katherine, whoever this girl is, she's had a hard enough life – I can see it by the forehead lines. I don't know what she's running from, or why, or anything like that…but she deserves better than this. She can't spend her whole life hiding for no good reason."

Katherine huffed, looking like she wanted to attack, but then relented. "In this one, Damon, I have to agree…but up to a point. This girl has brought the danger of the Albanian Mob to Mystic Falls – they'll come looking for her."

"And if they hurt this lovely lady…they'll be food for my fangs and yours, I'm sure," Damon replied. "I'm sure we'll all bury our hatchets to keep this town free from them."

"Are you so sure?"

"Yeah." Damon replied, a smug smile on his face. "Why not let people know? I'm sure people don't want the Mob here." Then, he turned to me, mouthing that he'd call me later, and left.

…

The next few days until the first full moon would prove to be uneventful…at least, until the morning of the full moon night. That morning, I opened up the door on my "moonstone hiding place," checking to make sure it stayed put.

Just then, I heard a knock at the door – and my stomach sank. I pushed the hiding door closed, racing to replace Mary's picture. Who was coming now? Knowing he or she probably wouldn't leave, I went to the door…and, much to my horror, there was a tall, dark-haired man in a three-piece suit. How had he broken Dad's barrier?

Seeing the horror on my face, he hesitated, and then pushed the door open. "Narcissa…it's okay." he said, almost sensing the fear in me.

"_Oh no…another lawyer." _I thought. If there was a group of people I _hated_, it was lawyers – especially divorce lawyers. Out of the fifteen – or was it nineteen? – families I had, no less than six had gone through divorce proceedings. As a foster kid, divorce meant tossing whatever semi-happy, partially normal life I had – even _if _somebody in the house was mildly or moderately abusive – straight down the toilet. To be honest, I didn't mind if I got punished – somebody cared about me just enough to regard my existence. But divorce – that meant I was just a few short days or weeks away from winding up back in the orphanage. Back to where I started.

The man, once again, seemed to read my face, his dark eyes taking on a sympathetic expression. "Narcissa, I didn't come to say you were going back to an orphanage. I'm not a lawyer – I don't have that authority." He wrapped he in his arms then, almost as if he wanted to tell me I was just having a bad dream. I pushed him back – those warm embraces usually just ended up being empty promises of something I would never get.

He looked me up and down then. "I _knew _Niklaus shipping you out here was a bad idea," he cursed. "He is an excellent strategist – but too many people wanted you for selfish purposes. And now…with his ritual idea…"

Then, he looked at me, almost as if the wrong words had slipped from his mouth. "On second thought, Narcissa…it may be better if you ran as far from Mystic Falls as you can."

"_Why?"_

He sighed. "I am Elijah Mikaelson…an Original vampire. I…like so many in this town, knew your father before his untimely murder. If you think your father created you because he loved you…you're wrong."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Narcissa…this town isn't safe…and Klaus played what so-called family you have to bring you here to Mystic Falls!" Elijah said. "Your father…what you have been seeing of your father…may not be your father at all, but just an illusion. Klaus…he is trying to gather the powers of the werewolf, vampire, and doppelganger…as well as the power of the moonstone…into one body to eliminate his need for the sacrificial ritual that will unlock his hybrid nature. Instead of killing three people…he will only need to kill you…or drain the power from you…to get what he wants."

I looked at Elijah. "_And that's bad…why, exactly?"_

"If Klaus gets that power…he will be unstoppable, free to create an army of hybrids," he replied. "He and your father…Charles…were trying to create a means by which Klaus could become a hybrid without the need for the ritual. He specifically wants to rid himself of the part concerning the Petrova doppelgangers, Katherine…and now, Elena Gilbert, a student here in Mystic Falls. If he can eliminate the need for the ritual…just kill you off on the night of the full moon…then why not do it?"

I…sat there for a few minutes…unsure of what to do, or how I felt. I had been on-the-fence about death and dying…I really wasn't worried about it, my biggest worry being how in the world I was how I was going to die without ending up in a nursing home, some uncaring schmuck shoving applesauce down my throat in the process. I didn't want to die _right now_, or in the next month or two…maybe three…but I was tired of running from state to state, being tied up and held back in life by the constant need to run. If I could not only free myself…but someone else…

"_Can you…bring Klaus to me?" _I asked.

Elijah stared at me like I'd completely ignored everything he said. "Hecate…that's suicide!"

"_No, it isn't," _I said. "_I…I want to talk to him. I want to hear his side of the story. This doesn't require a big fight…or even a war between species. I'm a halfway decent person, murders and all…and I think, deep down, Klaus must be decent too. If we just sit down…maybe try to talk this over…perhaps this doesn't have to escalate."_

Elijah looked at me like I'd lost my mind…but then, a lightbulb went off. "How many foster homes have you been in, Narcissa?"

"_Too many," _I admitted. "_Lost count after-"_

All of a sudden…a spray of bullets tore through my screen door, and Elijah threw me to the ground, taking several shots to the back. He grunted, but my face turned red…and I immediately ran to fetch two pistols and a knife, tossing Elijah the second gun.

"Thank you, dear…but the gun isn't necessary," he said, getting up and laying it down as a team of half-a-dozen Mob men stormed in, guns and knives in hand. Seeing an opening, I fired two shots while Elijah ripped the heart out of one of the men almost immediately. Within minutes, it went from two-on-six to two-on-four – good odds. The enemies had been stunned…just long enough for me to toss a knife through the air…gracefully embedding itself in one of the mafiosi's stomachs.

Elijah, for his part, looked surprised…but that didn't last as the last two mobbers fired again, forcing the both of us to scramble under a table for cover. "Narcissa, look away!" he said…but I didn't – and the so-called "Original Vampire" activated the beast within. Within seconds…the mobbers were dead, ripped to pieces in Elijah's wrath. For a few minutes, the silence filled the room…and then, I found tears running down my cheeks.

This…this was nothing to cry over…but I was furious. Elijah, still hurting from the bullets in his back, crawled to me, holding me close. "I'm sorry, Hecate…I'm so sorry."

…

I left the hospital under my own power at around noon – the moonstone now hidden inside my jacket with a knife and a slip of paper, having retrieved it as Elijah lay on the floor. I was temporarily homeless, pissed, and just plain fed up…so I snuck into a diner, determined to plan out what my next move would be.

Mary and WITSEC weren't an option – they'd most likely hear I'd been attacked and move me to another state. However…this town…for all its supernatural kookies…was where I was planting my flag.

This was the end of the running…and the end of my road. Even if Klaus wanted me dead – and chose to kill me for his purposes…it had to be infinitely better than running until I would up in a nursing home. I was done running and hiding from people who wanted me dead. If they wanted to kill me, I was willing to throw down with any of them – vampires, witches, werewolves, even doppelgangers.

They could come…but I'd be ready. And I'd kill them…every single one of them.

This place – Mystic Falls – was now my home.

My mind went to Klaus as a safety option – whoever and wherever he was…and then, Katherine walked in, staring at me. "Narcissa?" she asked.

I shook my head…and Katherine got the point real quick. "The safe house isn't safe…is it?"

I shook my head again…and then, I pulled a pen out of my pocket, grabbing a napkin. "_Katherine…this is MY HOME!" _I wrote, closing the pen up and sliding the napkin to her.

The vampiress looked at me…and then, she nodded her head in the affirmative. "You're ready, aren't you? You want this, don't you…no matter how awful the outcome is? Even if…Klaus kills you?"

I grabbed another napkin, furiously writing. I was angry…but this time, there was a purpose to my anger. _"Klaus…he can kill me...better than dying in a nursing home – but he better make it worth my while to die. I'm not going to die just so the Mob can bully this town. I want them gone…PERMANENTLY GONE!"_

Katherine looked like she wasn't sure of me at first…but then, she smiled at me, seemingly understanding me for the first time. "You don't want to just throw your life away…you want Klaus to earn his keep, don't you? You want him to be tethered to you like a dog on a chain…so even though you die in the process…you still get what you're after. Dead Mob…safe Mystic Falls…and your father's secrets stay buried a mile deep. You die a hero, get off the government's back…wins for everyone."

I grinned. "_Now you're starting to get me, Katherine! You survive…no more need to be worried about Klaus…and you lose having to babysit me, which I know full well you don't want to do – if you did, you wouldn't be so worried about moonstones."_

"Moonstone…not moonstones, Narcissa," Katherine smiled. "But yes…I'm guilty of not wanting to be a-"

My phone went off - Mary. "_Can I get a compulsion?" _I wondered.

"On the house, baby doll," she replied. "In fact…I can make WITSEC forget you ever were, if that's what you want. The Mob's never going to quit chasing you…so you might as well bite the bullet and sign up for the Social Security. It'll tide you over…the part-time job might be car money."

I suddenly panicked. "_Shit!" _I signed. "_That might actually be the doctor – I need a heartburn medication!" _I grabbed my phone, then let out a huge sigh. "_False alarm…but I have to get a move-on. That prescription ain't gonna fill itself."_

"I'll get you to the-"

"What're you doing here, Katherine?"

Suddenly, a blonde-haired man stood over our table, glaring at Katherine as he slicked back his hair. "Stefan…you _do _realize I have other ambitions in life than the moonstone?"

"I do…but it seems weird that you're actually sitting here with a random woman who looks like she stumbled out of the trailer park. Doesn't it seem…rather beneath you, Katherine?"

"Madam Narcissa will never be beneath me, Stefan…she could probably hotwire a car lot before you found the moonstone. Come…we need to get you your meds, Narcissa…and get you to a new place."

…

In the end, the only place with an open bed where I had any hope of getting a peaceful night's sleep was a mildly run-down hotel at the edge of town – which was perfect for what I needed to do. As I unfolded the paper containing the moonstone and my knife…I reflected on the people I had seen. Katherine...she didn't have my best interests at heart…but she'd do what I needed in the current situation. We were using each other…but for now, I needed her, especially with Elijah in the hospital for the night…and too damn close to Klaus.

Stefan and Damon…I wasn't sure of them, but I more than likely hadn't seen the last of either. With so many people still variables…I may have ended up coming to need them as back-ups. I sighed…like it or not, I was playing Mystic Falls like a checkerboard. I would much rather been watching _V for Vendetta _for the eighteenth time…but somehow, my dad's supposed barrier was either nothing but Swiss cheese, or the Mob had witches on the payroll.

Knowing I was only prolonging the inevitable…I cut the moonstone into three pieces and grabbed a plastic cup off the counter, filling it with water. I wondered how I was going to get this thing down without choking…but I knew I had to do it. Taking a sip, I grabbed the stone, slipping it into my mouth…and all of a sudden, it felt like my whole throat was on fire as I struggled to push the whole thing down, tears coming to my eyes.

I went to the window, desperate for even an inkling of a distraction…when I saw the reflection of a man in the glass. "You can do this, Hecate," the man said, putting his had on my shoulder. "Finish it."

My face was red, and my temperature soared…I _had _to be over 106, my threshold for organ failure. I shook, wanting to throw up…but the man hurried to grab my water cup, forcing it into my hands.

"Drink." he demanded. I obeyed, not because I supported this guy…but because I couldn't stand another minute without water. Unfortunately…it felt like the stuff dried up in my throat. I shoved the cup into his hand…and suddenly, a noise came out of my throat…something between a scream and a squeak…before I crashed to the floor.

"Stay with me, Hecate!"

I tried…but my mind and body screamed in pain. I felt the man kneel down beside me…and then, I passed out.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Meeting Klaus

When I woke up again…the bed I woke up in was _not _the one I had bought for the night. The sheets were satin…I was wearing a long, blue nightgown…and the moonstone pieces were gone. I panicked, eyes flying around the room…until they landed on a door. Without thinking…I ran toward it, forcing my weight against it…but then, a hand fell on my shoulder.

"That's not a good idea, Narcissa Coffery…or do you prefer Hecate?" a voice asked me, laying their hand on my shoulder. Still pretty badly freaked out, I reached for the door again…but then, I turned…to realize I had seen this man before, when I was choking down the moonstone. He wore a coffee-brown shirt and dark-brown pants, his brown hair short…and something was wrong with his eyes…like they were blue, but full of darkness…an old, old darkness.

I turned back. I remembered I had made a sound when I swallowed the moonstone. Could I…make a sound again? "Wh…Who…a-a-re…y-you?" I struggled, forcing my mind to remember how the words sounded and re-form them in my mouth. I was an excellent listener…I could sometimes read people's deepest thoughts just by the inflection of syllables, but for some reason, the letters themselves were terrifically hard to form across my weak vocal cords. My voice sounded dry and raspy…like something out of a coffin, almost terrible….but tears came to my eyes.

It was hard…very hard…but I had spoken my first words.

"Say it again, Hecate," the man said. "Let me hear you again. You can do this."

"Who…a-are…you…s-s-sir?" I said, the coppery taste of blood blooming in the back of my mouth. My voice was atrocious to my ears…like some alien monster out of a horror flick…but by God, I had done it. The tears were flowing strong now…and the stranger hugged me.

"Great job, Hecate…I believed in you, darling."

It was then that my mind came back on board from an evening in WITSEC. I pulled away from the man…but then I realized I was weaponless except my fists. "Calm down, Hecate…I mean you no harm, little dear," he said, his voice sounding just a touch British. "I know you're scared…you've been in a home invasion and a kidnapping in less than a day, for God's sake…but please, try to hear me out."

I stared at him. "Y-Yo-You…b-b-bet-ter-"

"I'd better hurry the hell up and start talking?"

I shook my head in the affirmative.

"Well," he said, gesturing back toward the bed, "take a seat, Hecate. We have much to discuss – even if this chat is rather one-sided."

I did as he asked and tried to calm down, swallowing the blood that came from my first talking experiment. "My name is Klaus…although I am possessing the body of Mr. Alaric Salzman, your future history teacher…you can call me Klaus Mikaelson. You may have heard of me from my brother, Elijah."

I nodded. "He…h-elp…"

"Yes, I know – he wants to protect you from me," Klaus said. "I have no doubt that even now, he's flipping that hotel room we were in upside down with that prison guard you call a mother. However...they are too late to hide you from the truth…a truth you've been needing to hear for a while."

I reddened a touch with the mention of Mary, but I held my temper in check. Klaus had information I wanted – probably needed – and I needed to stay on this guy's good side. I felt a vampiric compulsion, so I shook my head again, and it was gone.

"Your father's defense mechanism is working – excellent," Klaus said. "I was a very good friend of your father's, even from his early days with the White Stags. He was…a little rough…in the beginning, but I can't blame him…a place like Vietnam would make _anybody _a little less than trusting.

"However…when I began to understand him…I understood his anger. All his life, he desired a life of meaning…of purpose, and conscience. He went to Vietnam to serve democracy…to bring freedom and peace to the people of the North. When he went to My Lai…it shook him to his core. He found out he was not fighting for freedom…that he was merely fighting for an overlord. His parents died one on top of the other…and when he came home, he was shattered. They called him 'baby-killer' and 'murderer.' Everything he believed in…it all turned into a pile of shit. When Katherine found him…she had to stop him from leaping off of a bridge…"

He then rose, going to a laptop on the table and pulling a floppy disc from his pocket, sliding it in. I watched as he loaded up what looked like an grainy image of a scraggily-haired man clinging onto the side of a bridge for dear life, then brought the laptop to me.

"This is your father when he was at his low point," Klaus said. Then, he showed me another picture…one of my father, now with much less hair dressed in a long white robe, smiling at what looked like a "commencement" of sorts, six other men in long white robes. "This is when he was named a warlock of the White Stags – a group of people dedicated to the use of magic to help the weak and disillusioned, scattering throughout the world to help others…and bring the most powerful into the coven. They are they most respected coven in this world…other covens let them practically do as they please because of their reputation as not only healers, but fearsome warriors – a single member of the White Stags can sometimes wipe out entire werewolf packs if forced. Your father…he specialized in using magic to save Vietnam vets and other disillusioned people like himself from committing suicide, get kids off the streets...and away from drugs."

Tears came to my eyes. "B-But-"

"If he was so devoted to his crusade, why in the hell did he end up in Albania?" Klaus asked, showing me pictures of some of the lives my father saved. "Well…I ran across him again after he went to UCLA, circa 1982 – we lost touch for a while. At that time, he was a student by day…but an extremely powerful warlock by night. He never tried to amass followers, or power solely for himself…but people knew better than to mess with him. He'd never want to start a fight…but you'd better _wish_ he wasn't the bloke ending it. He was the "White Hawk" of the underworld."

_October 1982_

_UCLA Quad_

_ Klaus wandered his way across the quad, desperate to find the one warlock he knew he could trust…a man who knew both science and magic, and could keep a secret. He was short on time…he knew others were on the hunt, but maybe he could get away without-"_

_ "Look what the cat drug in," _a voice said, as footsteps began to punctuate the night air. He turned to see Eric Stoneman, a black-haired powerful werewolf who almost always dressed in three-piece suits, and twenty powerful members of his Western Seattle pack, appeared. "_And none of his cronies? Ohhh…we're gonna have some fun, ain't we, boys? His fancy-pants brother hasn't shown up to spoil our fun today."_

Klaus groaned. _"I would back off, mate,"_ he said, completely unafraid of the wolves. _"It isn't me who's territory you just so happen to be stepping on."_

Stoneman laughed. "_You think someone more powerful than the Western Seattle Pack is gonna save the likes of you!? You're out of your f-ing-"_

_"Did you not hear the man, werewolf?"_ a calm voice asked…just as the ground under their feet began to shake and crackle with power. Klaus had felt this power several times – a calm, tamed, yet unending fury. He had felt the warlock's unending river of regret…a place of shame. Of failure…a failure Klaus didn't fully understand. The man had done his duty…as a soldier, a warlock, and a son…and he had been repaid with coffins and hate. Klaus didn't blame him for his heavy drug use…hell, people had told him he'd butchered babies! It was no wonder to him why he'd almost thrown himself off a bridge.

The werewolves, meanwhile, stared at the golden-haired, green-eyed man in a night robe in horror as the ground beneath their feet broke away and was lifted into the air. Charles Coffery stared down at them like a god…and smiled.

_"I don't like killing…I did enough of that in 'Nam,"_ he said. _"However, Mr. Stoneman…this is the third time I've caught you running around this campus and raising hell. You and your pack have put four women in the grave in the past five months…and you are getting on my last nerve, if not Ted Bundy's," he said, producing a semi-automatic gun. "You guys can either choose to walk away…start acting like civilized humans and stop attacking people for your own amusement…or I can play the nastiest game of fish-in-a-barrel Western Seattle ever saw."_

The werewolves stared…but then shapeshifted and started to slowly scamper away. Even Stoneman looked terrified…and soon the wolves disappeared, leaving Klaus and Charles alone. Charles lowered the piece of earth, using his magic to repair the damage.

_"Klaus, come on up!" _Charles finally said. "_It's been too long!"_

"_What's with the Ted Bundy reference, mate?" _Klaus wondered.

"_Those women's deaths were being linked to Bundy…but he's been sitting in jail a minute now," _Charles replied. "_In all honesty, I hope that man never comes into contact with the vampires…he'd be a hell of a monster to kill."_

_ "I see him falling on the side of the werewolves…they'd like his brutal style…but I think they'd end up having to take him out, too," _Klaus admitted, making his way to the balcony, where Charles waited for him with a warm hug. "_Charles…why is it that for a warlock such as you…you embrace me with all the warmth of a brother? I have family members who see me as the scum of the earth…but you-"_

_ "I find hatred to be draining," _Charles replied. "_Why not be the person who cares for others…the one who gives without strings? Everyone else wants to be King of the Hill, immortal, all-powerful…why not be the person people come to for help instead? I'm just a warlock working on his biology degree…I might be a little short on resources…but I can still help."_

Klaus groaned. "_That's not what I wanted to hear, Charles."_

The warlock gave him an odd look. "_What is it? Is this about that curse?"_

_ "Good – that saves me a lot of explaining. You're a bright man, Charles…you'll have that degree on your wall in no time," _Klaus replied. "_I have…an idea. Why can't I, instead of using the three sacrifices demanded by the ritual…place the three sacrifices in one body…one container, if you will? Create a thing…or a person…that can work like all three sacrifices? Eliminate so many moving parts…get rid of the need for a doppelganger…and make myself a hybrid by that means?"_

Charles stared at him. "_You're either a genius or smoking weed," _he replied. "_But…I'm not the man to ask for help right at the moment. I don't have the ability to do what I would need to with the resources I have right now…and as a full-time student, looking for lost people, and part-time ice cream man…I barely have time enough to see the inside of my eyelids. I know it's not what you want to hear, but,"_

_ "I figured that was the situation you were in. Just one question, though: do you work that ice cream stand on Seventh and Maple?"_

"_Yessir," _Charles replied. "_I get a window into the ghetto that way, and the GI Bill doesn't cover everything. I'm sitting on about two thousand in student debt…probably get it paid off by the time I graduate, or I get the college to forgive it by getting that teacher's aid job."_

_ "Why'd you pick such an expensive college?"_

_ "I was asking myself the same thing fifty times yesterday alone."_

Klaus smiled. "_Well…how about this? You join me…become a part of my inner circle. You don't have to be overt…just keep an eye on things on the street, let me know what's going on…maybe take on a favor for me here and there, if you can…and who knows? You might be saying good-bye to that debt…make some great contacts…"_

Charles looked at me. _"You drive a mean bargain, Klaus," _he said. "_I'll take you up on it…and I'll see what I can do when I mix magic and biology. I planned on studying it to see if magic can be used to create cures for diseases like diabetes and heart problems…but maybe I can figure something out."_

The pair shook hands. "_I always know I can count on you, Charles," _Klaus said. "_I believe this is the beginning of an amazing working relationship together."_

…

_Present Day_

_ "Did he do it?" _I wondered. "_Did he create this container you wanted?"_

"It took him years…many, many years…and many, many lies…but he did – an incomplete container. "He transformed himself…little by little…bit by precious bit…and became the mad scientist the Feds know him to be today…but the seed I planted in his head…transformed and became a vision that I never dreamed possible. He created the Triad…in other words…you, Hecate. A being with the powers of the witch, vampire, and werewolf slumbering within you…all activated by three pieces of a moonstone. Once all of them are consumed…assuming the experiment works…you become a fourth Petrova doppelgänger. A false doppelganger…but my killing you will save at least three lives…perhaps many dozens more."

Suddenly…my teeth began to ache. "Ah…need blood, I assume?"

Without meaning to, I nodded, still drowning in the information overload. I…had been created…just to be killed? I…was nothing more than a pig, shuttled from farm to farm to be sentenced to the butcher when the time was right? Tears leaked out of my eyes…and as Klaus returned with a flask of blood, putting it to my lips, he saw my distress.

"Hecate…you're not just a pig for slaughter," Klaus said. "You…if this works…can open new gateways for magic…and for science! You are your father's greatest creation…a being of unimaginable power! Besides…I'm not going to kill you right off…on Halloween Night…three months from now. As long as you stay here to finish the moonstone…you will be able to live these last months in peace, free of the Mafia's intrusion…and I will _personally _ensure your safety and comfort.

"_You better," _I snarled with my eyes. "_If I go through with this…and I have to put up with any more of this bulls—t…the deal's off."_

"So accepting," Klaus said. "Excellent…I accept your terms."


End file.
